


Thoughts of Escape

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [13]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Blood Play, Bondage, Figging, M/M, Mind Control, Punishment, Torture, Vampires, Whipping, dark!fic, enslavement, evil!Leon, evil!Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2743832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur contemplates descending the wall. Leander dominates Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts of Escape

Arthur stood contemplating the drop from his bedroom window to the courtyard below. No doubt the fall would kill him, but might it be worth the risk to leave this place? He didn’t know how much longer he’d have these moments of lucidity—when, although he felt passionately for the Count and longed to be in his presence again, Arthur knew he must get away. This was a place of evil, and it had taken over his mind and body. While Arthur still retained a shred of his soul, he must escape Castle Dracula if he can.

The front door would no longer open to Arthur’s touch; he’d tried, and almost been caught by Leander, who remained at the castle.

There had been no one to entrust with his letter; it still sat nestled among Arthur’s things. Undoubtedly, if the Count should read it, he would punish Arthur—this time himself. Shame washed over Arthur’s face at the twitch his cock gave at the thought.

Dracula had ignored Arthur for the past three days since the figging. Arthur’s bite marks ached, and his body felt empty. Still, he leaned out the window—just wide enough to allow Arthur to crawl through—and looked at the chinked nooks and crannies in the wall that might possibly support his weight. The black wolf was not always prowling—sometimes it left for the woods. If Arthur could just get down the castle wall and out the gate…

Arthur’s stomach lurched at the idea. He was terrified of heights. He also knew that he was likely to be eaten by wolves if he made it to the forest road.

With a sigh, he turned and straightened his clothing before heading downstairs. It was the dinner hour, but due to Arthur’s skewed timetable, it felt like breakfast time.

Leander sat at the table feeding bits of his meal to Will, who eagerly took from Leander’s fingers. As usual, not a thread on Leander’s expensive clothes was out of place, but Arthur was alarmed to see that Will was barely dressed. He wore only his flowing white shirt. From his vantage point at the table, Arthur could plainly see the man’s long, tanned legs covered in coarse, dark hair.

Arthur hadn’t seen Gwaine since before his punishment. The three sisters remained elusive, and the sounds from above continued sporadically. Arthur wanted to spy—to see what exactly went on up there—but he wasn’t sure if it was worth the punishment he would receive.

As he filled his plate at the full sideboard, Arthur was shocked out of his reverie by Leander addressing him.

“The Count will be ready to go to his new property in London within the week.”

Arthur paused, hand hovering over his plate. If Dracula left for London, what would become of Arthur? Would the Count let him go? Kill him?

“Indeed?” he found his voice.

Leander nodded, pulling Will up from his seat to stand beside Leander-- leaning into Leander, head bowing to rest on the strawberry curls. Leander reached up and caressed the back of Will’s thighs, just below his shirt tail.

“My cousin has been busy wrapping up a few things. He asked me to check on your welfare.”

“I am fine.”

Leander’s eyes moved over Arthur speculatively.

“Are you feeling the Count’s absence?”

Arthur opened his mouth to say he didn’t know what Leander meant, but he did know. Arthur felt Dracula’s absence keenly, as though a piece of Arthur’s own body were missing.

He gave a curt nod, and set about eating, fully aware that Leander’s eyes remained glued to him.

Soft grunts and sighs floated across the table. A glance showed Arthur that Leander’s hand had roamed farther up Will’s body underneath the flowing shirt.

Arthur continued to eat.

“Yes…yes, Master, yes…”

Arthur risked another look. Will had shamelessly opened his legs, and Leander’s hand was between them, hidden by the shirt. Leander’s eyes met Arthur’s. Will whimpered.

“Please, Master…”

“Down,” Leander suddenly barked, and Will fell to the floor as though shot, whimpering and whining like a dog. Arthur watched the shameful display, quite unable to look away. Leander stood and kicked at Will with his booted foot.

“Up on all fours.”

Will scurried to comply, mouth open and panting, eyes glazed with need. Leander kicked Will’s legs apart and whipped the shirt tail up over his back, revealing a rounded, pale arse. Turning, Leander’s eyes perused the table before settling on the plate of meat. He dipped his fingers into the grease, rubbing them together a moment before opening his trousers with his other hand and bringing out his long, reddened cock.

Arthur watched, hypnotised, as Leander coated his member with the oily juices from the meat. On the floor, Will wiggled his arse in need. When Leander crouched behind Will, intent more than obvious, Arthur wanted to look away but found he couldn’t. He watched as Leander impaled Will on him with one long stroke that brought a keen of pleasure from Will’s mouth and a jolt to Arthur’s groin.

Arthur watched the rutting for a good two minutes before he realised that he still held his right hand with fork in it suspended over his plate. He put it down.

“You interrupt my meal with your begging,” Leander growled down at Will, face red. Will moaned. “You will not be permitted to come, do you hear me?”

Will cried out, head bowed to the floor. “Please, Master!”

“No! Do. Not. Come.” Leander punctuated every word with a fierce thrust of his hips.

Arthur couldn’t help himself; he reached down and pressed his palm over his burgeoning erection. He didn’t know why he felt the scene so compellingly erotic. All he’d ever thought about when he’d thought about sex was vague, pleasurable interludes in bed, in the dark, with his wife after they were wed. His only experience in the matter had been a half dozen quick romps with a prostitute in a brothel that had consisted of her sucking his cock to hardness and lifting her skirt to him. He didn’t know what to think of or how to handle the heights of ecstasy he’d felt when with the Count, or the type of desire this wanton display before him engendered in him.

With a slap to Will’s arse, Leander let go of him, ordering him to stand. Will obeyed, staggering, and stood at attention beside Leander for the rest of the meal with an obscene erection tenting his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to those still reading and who have ventured to reply. <3 Sorry to my usual readers who have had to leave due to being traumatised, lol. This isn't my usual fare.


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